Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters and places, they belong to Tamora Pierce.

A/N – hey guys! Thanx to everyone who reviewed my last chapter. I've worked hard to make sure there is at least one long chapter in case I don't get anymore up for a while, so give me back some feedback! Please!

6. Chase

Markel gathered followers on the way, and a group of people were soon dashing through the halls of the palace. As they turned into the corridor on the pages wing he heard and just saw the door to Ilane's room slam shut. He was sure it would be locked, but that wouldn't be a huge obstacle. He reached the door just ahead of everyone else, and started pounding on it and trying the handle. Others joined him after barely a second, and the noise was deafening. Markel shouted as loud as he could ''Lane, open the door now! Let me in!' but there was no answer. Everyone stopped banging as he reached down to his boot and pulled out a slim piece of carefully adapted wire. Not even the nobles present seemed surprised that he carried a lock pick with him, and he smoothly inserted it into the lock. With a few deft manipulations – most pages were accomplished at lock picking – the door gave a click and the handle turned easily. Even as it swung open, Markel had a horrible sick feeling in his stomach. The sight that greeted his eyes confirmed it. He stood silent in the centre of the main room as others rushed to check the adjoined dressing chamber, but he already knew what they would find. Ilane was gone.

If there had been no way to escape, he knew she wouldn't hide, and he walked to the window already recognising how she got out. It was what he would have done. The footsteps in the snow leading from the base of the wall to the palace entrance opposite confirmed his hunch, and he stood there, looking and thinking. They needed to find her. He turned to find the rest of the group looking at him. Markel grimaced. He was fairly sure that he knew were Ilane would have gone, but by the look on the faces of these men, all loyal to Sir Keril, they wanted blood. And he didn't want that blood to be Ilane's.

No one said anything, and everyone turned and left. Two men 'escorted' him to the door; they didn't say as much, but he felt they were afraid he would disappear too. They went back down to the training ground. Sir Keril was gone, but a large crowd had gathered, just milling around. Many people did not seem to know what was happening. Markel knew all too well. Order was being restored, and a large scale search of the palace and grounds was being organised. The Captain of the Palace Guard, a large man by the name of Nolan, was organising the search. He looked livid. Commoner or no, he was a great friend of Sir Keril's, and they had fought together many a time. Markel was scared for Ilane.

A short time later, the hour was struck, and Ilane still hadn't been found. By now everyone in the palace was on the lookout; the King and Queen had been told and, to Markel's horror, an arrest warrant had been drawn up personally by the King. Ilane was in big trouble. He looked over at the agitated group surrounding Nolan. He dreaded the moment when someone decided to ask him if he knew where Ilane was. He was surprised no one had yet. While he was sure he did know, he didn't want to betray his sister. But he would not lie. So when he saw heads looking around the square, and eyes fixing on him, he shrank back into the wall, trying to prevent the inevitable.

But Nolan was coming toward him, long marching strides clearly portraying his fury as he quickly closed the distance between them. Others ran to catch up. Markel held his breath.

'Boy!' Nolan barked. 'Where is your sister? Do you know?' It was posed as a question, but sounded more like an order: 'you know where your sister is. Tell me! Now!' Markel took a deep breath and nodded. He dreaded what he had to say, and not only because it would give up Ilane – he felt she almost deserved to be caught after what she had done, this was going too far – but because he doubted they would believe him, at least at first. Since he almost didn't believe it himself, yet he knew it to be true. 'She is in the Chapel of the Ordeal.'

A stunned silence met his words. The men, all hardened soldiers, looked at him as though he was a rabbit cornered in the hunt. One of them gave a harsh laugh of disbelief. Nolan's face got steadily redder until he looked as though he would explode. Which, quite surprisingly, he did not. He took a deep breath and said quietly, in a calm, dangerous voice that was somehow worse 'you better not be having me on boy, or you will regret it.' Not a word of contest did he give, but turned and roared orders to various men. Markel gave a long shuddering breath. He was relieved, but also angered and scared for Ilane. He was angry because they had treated him as though he was guilty, and all this was his fault. But he was glad Nolan had believed him. However, his mouth dried at the sight of the gathered men who would be descending to the Chapel. There were eleven of them including Nolan; four of the palace guards, four grim faced knights and another Noble; as well as a quaking servant carrying a piece of paper and a portable writing desk, obviously considered of great importance to be included. What made him shiver most of all were the deadly crossbows carried by two of the guards and Nolan himself.

Somehow Markel found himself at the head of the forbidding procession as it made its way quickly down to the Chapel of the Ordeal. He dreaded what they would find at the end of the dimly lit passageway, what he hoped they did and yet hoped they didn't find. Ilane, his only sister, a girl of twelve, with a warrant out for her arrest, and, judging by the crossbows, almost a price on her head. He was awfully afraid for her, but tried not to let it show. He knew Ilane wouldn't. So he remembered the Yamini training his mother had shown them, and composed his features. It was a strange time. The group ran silently down the darkening corridor, no noise but the steady thump thump of booted feet on the stone floor. They rounded a gentle curve and suddenly, down a straight section of passageway, the door to the Chapel of the Ordeal came into view. It was carved with a sun, the ancient symbol of Mithros, and the area around the handles were curved and smooth with centuries of polishing. At the sight of it Markel stopped dead, his heart in his throat, and the men behind him ran into his back with a shout. Nolan turned and glared at everyone, and kept going at a brisk jog. Soon everyone was gathered silently in apprehension outside the Chapel door. Everyone looked at their feet, no one wanting to open the door, and Markel braced himself to keep from running. He wouldn't go in there. He couldn't, not even for Ilane. Pages who entered the Chapel of the ordeal never made Squire, and he wanted more than anything else to be a knight of the realm, and serve his king and country.

Nolan was the one that open the door. He gripped the handles, seemed to hesitate for a minute about of time, then slowly pushed. The doors swung open a crack, noiselessly on well oiled hinges, before Nolan swung them fully open. The three men with crossbows stood poised and ready near the front, and they all saw Ilane.

She stood at the far side of the room next to the Chamber door. For a second Markel thought he saw a look of shock cross her face, but if he had, it was fleeting, and her features bland again in the blink of an eye. She stood there, back straight and proud, and he knew she wouldn't be giving up. She would never surrender and come with them, no matter the infinitesimal odds.

'Ilane.' Markel found his voice first, and was relieved when it came out calm and sure. He felt like it should be wobbling. He pleaded with Ilane, silently, looking at her in desperation. 'I thought you would be here.'

She didn't reply. She was closed off and blank, and he couldn't guess at her emotions.

There was tense silence for at least a minute. Then Nolan lowered his crossbow and cleared his throat. He hovered on the edge off the door, not going in at the last second. No one else moved.

Nolan cleared his throat again, and began to speak. 'Ilane of Masbolle, in the presence of these witnesses you are hereby under arrest and at the mercy of the king's justice. You are charged with the assault of Sir Keril of Meron, and it is my duty to take you into custody. If you do not come peaceably, I have authority to command the use of deadly force. Do you here me and understand?'

Ilane nodded silently, but Markel could see she wouldn't be coming with them. She met his eyes steadily, and he begged her not to do it. Because he could see her escape route.

Nolan's gravelly voice was cold and hard. 'Then I would ask you to please step outside.' But Ilane wasn't moving. She shook her head.

'Ilane, be reasonable.' Markel said. 'There's nowhere for you to go. Just come out here.' He tried a last plea, already knowing it was out of his hands. With Ilane it always was. He had given up trying to protect her, but he couldn't just stand by and watch her throw her life away.

'Markel, you know I can't.' Ilane spoke quietly, but every syllable rang across the silent, empty expanse of the Chapel of the Ordeal. 'But I will see you again. I promise. Just don't come in here.'

Nolan and the other men looked at each other, confused, and one started to take a step forward. Markel just stood there, despairing for his sister.

Ilane spoke again, this time addressing herself to Nolan. 'Would you please give Sir Keril my apologies. Tell him I would have been happier as a squire, and I never meant for this to happen. He'll understand.'

And with that Ilane turned, opened the Chamber door and slipped inside. Markel darted forward, thinking if he could just get there soon enough, he could stop this, if he could just… he barely registered the shouts of the other men, and the whiz and clang of crossbow bolts flying after her. He focused on the iron door that was steadily closing.

'Nooooooo! Illlaaaaannneee!'

But she was gone. Markel fell to his knees in the aisle, and wept.

A/N – do you like it? Once again, please review!

Thankyou to:

Patronus99 – thankyou thankyou thankyou! But I'm not telling what happens next. But maybe she won't want a second chance. Maybe there's something better in store…

Lizzie – thanx! I know, if it's not the net, it's the computer! This chapter is longer

Flower Kid – thanx 4 reviewing again. She was mad at him because he wouldn't leet her be a squire when she easily could have, and her emotions were so wound up that she just snapped and attacked the training master when he came out of the stable.

Wingedrider – I'm a bit confused bout what you meant. Anyway, have you read the books? The Chaber is this awful test for would be Knights, and anyone else who goes in generally ends up dead.

Bambolieblue – thanx! There's nothing wrong with your review, and thanx 4 the feedback!

Thankyou, and sorry if I missed anyone!

Liss